


Shoot First, Always Ask Questions

by intelligentgravity



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Pistols, brothers being brothers, character stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4381898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intelligentgravity/pseuds/intelligentgravity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Virgil doesn't approve of the use of weapons on rescues. Yet sometimes, there is no choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoot First, Always Ask Questions

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of run-on one-shot character fic from my headcanon about Scott and Gordon being the weapons experts, from Virgil’s POV. Fairly G rated, I think, aside from use of guns and that.

“There are armed terrorists,” Scott muttered, meeting Gordon’s gaze. Gordon sobered at once, and as one they both glanced at Virgil. Virgil stared back at them, his face slowly folding into a frown.

“You’ve got your assassin faces on,” he said grumpily. He hated when Scott and Gordon got that look. That guarded, closed-off expression that revealed _nothing_ , supposedly to protect Virgil, but actually to protect themselves.

“Sorry Virgil. Kayo says there are hostages and multiple hostiles,” Scott replied. Gordon was watching him, snapped into his soldier training, awaiting orders. Virgil hated that too. “We’ll need you on standby. Keep the engines warm.” They turned away as one, heading to Thunderbird One and the armaments. Virgil stomped his feet, then turned back to his ship. Good, reliable, solid Thunderbird Two, who was reassuring and dependable to sit in while waiting to find out if one of his brothers was going to get _shot_ this time. He was the hostage evacuator, so he had to be alert, while he kept the engines running in the getaway vehicle.

“Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Five,” he called once he was back in the pilot’s seat. John appeared before him like a genie on command, and seemed to know exactly what Virgil’s problem was without it being spoken.

“I don’t like it either. They’re on radio silence. But Kayo’s with them, they’ll be all right. I’m tracking their locators.” John made his information visible for Virgil too. Virgil grunted his thanks, arms folded. They sat in silence for a minute.

“I just- this is not what International Rescue is supposed to _do_! We’re a _rescue_ outfit, not a SWAT team,” Virgil burst out. “Guns and hostages- there is the GDF for that. Why do Scott and Gordon need to needlessly throw themselves into harm’s way when there are _trained professionals_ not far away?”

John had heard this argument before, in triplicate. He heard it every time this sort of mission happened. But he just nodded along. “You know as well as I do that the GDF won’t get there before that bomb goes off and the dam collapses,” he said, and Virgil looked away. “And _Kayo_ is there too. A _trained professional_. They’re _all_ trained professionals.” John’s tone was calm, but there was a spiky quality to it that made Virgil look back. John had never been particularly effusive with his feelings. “Don’t think I don’t worry about them too.”

“I don’t think that,” Virgil replied, mellowing somewhat. “I just hate when they look at me, like I’m some- some- _delicate thing_ they need to protect.”

John chuckled. “You? Delicate?” But he knew what Virgil meant. In this, sturdy Virgil was the fragile one, holding onto his ethics of the sanctity of mankind. Weapons were different to natural disasters. People controlled weapons. Virgil just didn’t want to see the hatred in people.

“Yeah, crazy huh?” he said with a forced laugh. He was glad Alan wasn’t here. Alan always wanted to go too. He didn’t think he could stand it if Alan were to go along. It was hard enough watching Gordon grow battle-hardened before his eyes. “Hey John, if Alan were to ever-“

“Alan is not going to go up against armed assailants,” John said firmly, flaring up slightly in defence of his star-child. Virgil smirked a little. “Scott, Kayo and Gordon have training already. We don’t need Alan to do that as well, beyond basic training.”

“So you understand my feelings.”

“Of course I do. That doesn’t change the necessity-“

Virgil held up his hand just as gunshots rang out. “Thunderbird Five, are you getting that?” He stood up to try to peer out of the windows.

“Hostages en route,” Scott’s voice came through tersely. “Thunderbird Two, prepare for launch immediately on embarkment.”

A minute later a small group of people appeared through the trees. Scott was ahead, ushering them through into the open hatch. Gordon and Kayo took up the rear, turning back to face a lone gunman who had followed them. They both seemed like they were trying to defend the other. Kayo ordered Gordon aside just as a shot rang out.

“ _Kayo_!” Virgil exclaimed as she involuntarily cried out in pain and the man fired at her again, barely missing. “Scott, _do something_ -“

But Gordon was faster. A second later, the gunman was stretched out, and the IR operative was holstering his pistol and helping Kayo aboard ‘Two with barely a backwards glance. Scott nodded tacit approval and broke for ‘One, getting her in the air faster, even though Virgil had been prepared and waiting.

He could hear John questioning them, insistent on knowing the extent of Kayo’s injury, and only backing down upon being reassured it was a flesh wound. Scott’s orders were brief, telling Virgil where to take the rescued hostages. He wanted to get away quickly.

Throughout the drop-off, Virgil stayed in the pilot’s seat and let the others deal with the situation. Seeing Gordon shoot someone turned Virgil’s stomach, even if it was in self-defence. He couldn’t look at his brother when he rejoined him in the cockpit later, bloodstains on his sleeves. Gordon wasn’t particularly chatty either.

“No weapons in the cockpit, if you please,” Virgil said abruptly. Gordon started, realising he’d forgotten to stow his gun, and got up to do so with a muttered apology.

They were twenty minutes from home before anybody broke the silence.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Gordon said, rubbing at the dark brown splotches on his uniform. Virgil tensed up, a rush of conflicting emotions going through him. “I was aiming to incapacitate. He might have hit somebody badly. But the wind- and I was rushing- I know how you feel about this stuff, Virgil. I feel sick about it. I just wanted you to know that.”

“We’re going to have the GDF wanting a full report, you know,” Virgil replied, eyes on his instruments. Gordon nodded.

“You said _do something_ ,” he said, his voice quiet. “So I did. You can’t have it both ways.”

Virgil actually looked at Gordon properly. His brother looked pale, but resolute. “I’m not being unreasonable,” he said stubbornly. Gordon looked back at him, his jocular manner absent.

“It doesn’t matter. People needed us. I’m going to go check on Kayo.”

After they landed, Gordon went straight out and hit the pool, to the surprise of absolutely no one. Kayo’s arm was re-dressed, and she was given painkillers and told to rest. Of course, Kayo was a law unto herself, and she wanted to be present when the inevitable face-off between Scott and Virgil happened. Her idea of “resting” was sitting in the living room with her legs crossed, casually reading a book but never actually turning the pages.

Alan came in too, sitting on the sofa near Kayo. He didn’t want to hear all of this second-hand, and he felt that he was old enough and involved enough to be able to participate in their discussions.

“How’s your arm?” he asked Kayo, leaning over. She shrugged her good shoulder.

“Well enough. It could have been worse. It’ll be bandaged up for a little while, though.” Alan nodded sagely. Scott folded his arms.

“Just as well there were prepared individuals on the scene to back you up,” he said, setting the stage for Virgil to disagree with him. Virgil took the opportunity with gusto.

“ _Again_ , we should not have been involved _in the first place_ ,” he said, planting his feet.

“We do what we have to do to save lives.” Ripost.

“Not by taking lives too. That’s not our job, and it’s not our call. If Dad were here-”

“If Dad were here, he’d be congratulating us on a mission well done. It doesn’t hurt to have some of us trained to be able to use weaponry, in dire situations. The guns aren’t in Thunderbird Two. We don’t expect you to use them.” Parry.

“But we as individuals are all representative of the whole. What one of us does affects the whole team.”

“And being able to respond to hostile situations makes us more effective, Virgil, you have to see that being able to take out bad people saves more lives.”

“But at what cost? I don’t want International Rescue- my family- to be _murderers_!” Thrust.

Scott froze, his gaze flicking over his brother’s shoulder. Virgil knew without turning that Gordon was standing there, and he cursed his own poor choice of words, and Gordon’s poor timing at emerging from the pool.

“Ahh, Gordon. I didn’t mean you,” he began, half turning to face him.

“You did. But it’s okay. I’m not sorry. I mean, I’m sorry it had to happen, but I don’t regret the way I acted.” Gordon rubbed his towel through his hair. “Kayo could be badly hurt, or dead. Anyone could have been hit. I responded appropriately to the situation. Sorry guys, I gotta go to bed now though. I’m just beat.” He wandered away, Virgil only belatedly realising that the conversation was effectively closed.

***

A soft cry of alarm and a crash alerted Virgil as he walked down the dimly lit corridor towards bed. He paused, then gently opened the bedroom door beside him. Gordon was sitting up in bed, breathing heavily, his bedside lamp in pieces on the floor. He looked up and met Virgil’s concerned expression.

“Just a dream,” he muttered. Virgil was going to turn away, but something made him hesitate.

“About today?” he asked softly. Gordon paused, then nodded.

“I take my duty seriously, you know. I laugh it off but I understand the implications. I know Scott’s going to have to write me up to the GDF about this. I will take my consequences. But… I’m glad that you don’t use a gun. It means that… not all of us are… you’re still the best of us. I respect that. I do it so you don’t have to.”

“Oh don’t. I’m not that good.”

“You are though, Virg.” Gordon gave him a half-smile. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Virgil closed the door gently, and then headed to bed himself. Perhaps it was for the best that they had a balance of talents to call on when needed. It helped to set his mind at ease a little. Sometimes, just sometimes mind you, Gordon did make the most amounts of sense.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Duty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816088) by [Fr0st6yte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fr0st6yte/pseuds/Fr0st6yte)




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